Gentle With Them Spurs
by boasamishipper
Summary: The two are always together—usually griping—but always no further than point blank range apart. But how did they get that way? Prequel to Keep a Spur Handy. Written for Round 4 of the Probending Circuit.


a/n: this is the prequel to "keep a spur handy" and my response to the prompt for the fourth round of the probending circuit. apologies in advance for the abrupt ending.

Key words: the genre western, the word fairy, and the emotion grief.

Bonus points: submitted in the first week.

Word count: 2769.

Characters: Skoochy, Kai.

Pairings: mentions of Kainora.

* * *

The Wuchu Saloon is a barn of a place without much decoration. Even past eleven, which is when men usually sneak out of their houses to go drink whiskey without their wives scrutinizing them, the place is half empty. Someone's hammering out a ditty on a piano, and the place is smoky and dimly lit. There are tables set up ready for play, chips and cards neatly placed, but the only action comes from a game of blackjack in the corner.

Skoochy's not really one for blackjack, so his attention's not on the game. He's too busy nursing a glass of scotch while one of the barmaids gives him a shoulder massage. Neither the girl nor the drink is particularly captivating, but it feels real good to relax without the fuzz breathing down his neck for the first time in a month. He'd lost the posse back in Gaoling, and he plans to meet up with the Triple Threat Triads—the gang that he runs with—in a few days to discuss what they'll rob next.

He leans back in his chair, sighing contently as the barmaid—he thinks she has one of those hooker names, like Champagne or something—finally leaves. His fingers brush against the rim of his glass and he debates how many times he'll be able to scam a drink before the bartenders ask him for money.

Then there's a ruckus in the back of the room, and his eyes lock with the man who'd been dealing that game of blackjack. He's young, with darker skin and green eyes and shaggy brown hair, and he's staring down the other man that had apparently called him a cheater. "I'm many things," the stranger says in a clear, ringing voice, easily capturing the attention of everyone in the saloon, "but I ain't a cheater."

"Yeah?" The one who'd called the stranger out snorts. "What's the secret to your success then, pretty boy?"

The corners of the stranger's mouth quirk upward in a strange sort of smirk. "Prayer," he says grimly, looking one hundred and six percent serious. The ditty in the corner thuds to an abrupt halt as the piano player gets up and leaves the place. So do the other blackjack players. "An' I suggest ya use my strategy if ya wanna survive the night."

The other man doesn't even flinch, but Skoochy can see out of the corner of his eye that both men's hands are flickering near their holsters, and he can tell that this will end in blood—whose blood, he doesn't know yet. "Hey," he calls across the saloon, instantly capturing their attentions. "Are you gonna pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?"

The men look at him like he's evolved from pond scum, a look Skoochy's been on the receiving end of since his adolescent years. "What's it to you, pard?" says the prick. The stranger just eyes him like he ain't sure what to make of the situation. Good. That's something they have in common.

Skoochy puts on his most easygoing smile and stands up, walking over to them. The saloon slowly begins to vacate, and he's pretty sure that he hears whispers about calling the sheriff but he can't bring himself to care about rumors. "Gentlemen," he says evenly, "it ain't my business if you'd like to slaughter one another—I certainly won't grieve either of you—but you shouldn't do it in here. Can you really bring yourself to make these lovely ladies clean up your blood?" He doesn't even wait for the affirmation before pressing on. "That's what I thought. How 'bout we take this outside, eh?"

Through gritted teeth, the prick says, "Yeah, alright," like it'd been his idea, and he stalks out of the saloon.

Once he's gone, Skoochy glances at the stranger, giving him a quick once-over. He's strong—he can see the guy's muscles through his shirt. "Y'know, you could run now and I wouldn't think any less of you."

"Nah." To his surprise the stranger grins at him, showing off perfect teeth. He checks the magazine of his gun, and Skoochy can see one bullet in there. "I'm gonna settle it with that cowboy one way or another."

Even against his dubiously good ideas, this isn't his idea of a good plan, especially because the stranger doesn't look particularly special and the prick looks like he can thrash both of them easily in a fight. "Really? You think you can take him with one bullet?"

"I can do it."

He knows good ideas and he knows those who are prime bullshitters. This, while it ain't a good idea, it isn't bullshit either. Maybe this guy really can do it, but it'll probably be at the expense of his life. "Wanna work together?" The words fly out of his mouth before he even realizes what he's said. The stranger's eyes narrow. "Do you know me?"

"All I know about you, partner," says the stranger, "is that you're stopping me from going on a shooting spree." He leans in close, and so does Skoochy. He nearly misses the whisper of, "I won't say no to help 'cause I ain't that proud yet." Then he flies out the door, Skoochy a few seconds behind him.

The prick is standing a few feet away, feet spread apart, shoulders back, and a crowd's slowly gathered. The man has a person standing next to him, and Skoochy feels even sorrier for the stranger, having to shoot two men with one bullet. _He's dead, alright._

The prick spits a wad of tobacco-colored sputum onto the dirt. "You ready, cheater?"

"Nah," says the stranger without a mention of the dig against him. "I thought we could settle this like men." Even as he says it his hand rests on his gun, but the prick doesn't seem to notice it.

The prick laughs. "You thought wrong, dude." The gun jumps into his companion's hand like it's second nature, but before he can do anything he falls to the ground, dead, and Skoochy shoots the prick before he can even pull the trigger.

He turns around to see the stranger walking forward with two red roan horses. They both nod at one another like the testosterone-filled men they are, and Skoochy leaps atop one of the horses once the silence gets awkward. It's a goddamn miracle that no one's alerted the sheriff of this. "Follow me," he says to the stranger with one last wave at the crowd outside the Wuchu Saloon.

The stranger mounts his horse, and they both ride out of the town without another word.

* * *

When they're about twenty miles away from the Triad's meeting place, Skoochy asks the question that he's been pondering since they'd left: "Hey, kid, how did you know which one of them was goin' to shoot first?"

The kid—he's not so much as a stranger anymore, is he?—shrugs like it's obvious. "Well, the friend of the one that called me out, he had crazy eyes and a flap holster. Hand was twitchin' near it the whole time. I figured him to make the first move. The guy that called me out was a little prick; he had scared eyes and was in no itchin' hurry."

"And the one that called you out?" At the kid's confused look, Skoochy clarifies. "What was you gonna do when he started to shoot atcha?"

The kid waves that notion away like a rotten odor. "Never paid him no mind; you were there."

Skoochy's a bit overwhelmed at the trust that the kid has shown him considering they'd only met about ten minutes ago. Fifteen minutes ago he wouldn't have felt any grief if the kid had dropped dead. "I could have missed," he points out. "I could've left you to die."

The kid raises an eyebrow as if to say _Would you have really?_ Skoochy doesn't even know the answer to that anymore. How had his life changed so drastically? Spirits, he doesn't even know the kid's name and he's taking him to meet the Triple Threat Triads. Ah, well, that he can certainly rectify. "I can't call you Kid all the time in my head, y'know," he says cheerfully. "You got a name besides 'cheater'?"

The dig makes the kid's left eye twitch imperceptibly, and he says, "Call me Yu Dao."

And then Skoochy realizes just who he has sitting beside him, and the explosion in his mind is so large that he pulls his horse to a stop in the middle of the road. The kid next to him is the Yu Dao Kid, an outlaw almost as feared as him. Spirits, he'd been locked up at fifteen for fraud and had been sought after for knocking off trains and stealing gold. He'd saved the Yu Dao Kid's life. _Sweet Spirits, wait until the guys in the gang hear that I've recruited the Yu Dao Kid into our rankings!_

"Got a real name?" he asks instead. "One that I can introduce you to the Triple Threats as?"

The Yu Dao kid looks like he's never been asked that question before. "Kai," he finally says. "Kai Wen." Then the rest of the sentence registers. "Triple Threats? You run with that piece of shit gang?"

"Least I have a piece of shit gang," Skoochy retorts. He doesn't deny that they're a piece of shit gang because they are, but that's only because Viper's still in charge. "And yeah, I figured that I may as well induct you into their rankings."

His eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "Induct me into their—shit, man, who the hell are you?"

Skoochy flashes Kai a grin as they carefully ride their way down the canyon. "I'm Skoochy," he replies, tipping an imaginary hat at his companion. "Skoochy Nakamura."

Kai raises a single eyebrow, looking like he's trying to hide his amazement under a blasé façade. "Skoochy Nakamura," he repeats, lowering his eyebrow. "You're the one who robbed the bank in Gaoling."

Skoochy nods. "Careful, pard," he warns. "The canyons have ears, y'know."

Kai doesn't laugh at the joke. "I've heard of you," he says instead. "You've got quite the rep. But seriously, man, what the hell kind of a name is Skoochy?"

"S'my name," he says, nearly laughing at the rapid-fire subject change. "My real name is Shun." He narrows his eyes at him. "Tell anyone that, Wen, and you'll be swimming with the fishes." Kai raises his hands in surrender. "Skoochy was what a friend of our family called me." He's never told anyone this before. "His home suited me better than the one I left, so I kept the name."

Kai breaks the awkward silence first. "My father was a useless prick too," he says, not looking away from the horizon.

They both keep silent after that.

* * *

"Who the fuck is this guy, Nakamura?" Those are the first words out of Viper's mouth after Kai and Skoochy dismount their horses. Everyone else is staring like idiots—even Lightning Bolt Zolt and Shady Shin's mouths are hanging open.

Skoochy scowls, not ready for this confrontation yet. Spirits, how long will it be until Viper asks someone to challenge him for the rights of the gang again? "I found him bending your mother over a barrel and showing her the Four Nations," he counters. "That a good enough reference for you, Boss?"

"S'good enough for me, Skoochy!" Two-Toed Ping shouts. _Kiss-ass_ , he thinks. _Always looking for a chance to suck up._ Either or, the support invigorates him.

"Gentlemen, and Viper," he says with a haughty smirk. He can almost see the smoke coming out of his boss's ears. This is going to be good. "I'd like to introduce you to Mister Kai Wen. We met back in a saloon in Wuchu."

"Can he shoot?" Viper gets right to the heart of the matter as he glares holes into the back of Kai's skull. "We need a real man to ride with us, not some fairy."

Before Skoochy can tell his boss politely to fuck off, Kai grins like a shark. "Oh, I can shoot alright," he says, and then he sticks out his hand to Two-Toed Ping, who shakes it awkwardly. "I'm the Yu Dao Kid. Nice to meet you."

It's one hell of a climactic introduction, and he swears that all of the Triple Threats nearly faint on the spot. Kai locks eyes with Skoochy and flashes him a quick grin before turning back to an awestruck Two-Toed Ping.

 _Yeah_ , he thinks with a grin right back, _we're gonna get along just fine._

* * *

It happens kind of quick after that that Kai becomes Skoochy's partner in crime. They develop a connection so strong that they can guess what the other is thinking without saying a word. They bring in more gold and yuans than anyone else in the Triple Threats, and according to the gang they're like an old married couple—they take it as a compliment.

Skoochy doesn't know why he trusts the guy so much. Maybe it's 'cause Kai keeps to himself but when he does speak, it's always in his dry, sarcastic way, and he likes that. Maybe it's because Kai has his back from the beginning, through thick and thin and bullets and grime. Maybe it's because Kai doesn't leave him in the dust like his other partners have, off to pursue bigger and better things or worse, to get amnesty. Sure, they may argue all the time—even through their robberies, Kai always makes fun of Skoochy overcompensating with the dynamite—but they always stick together. 'Friends' doesn't quite encompass what they are, but Skoochy's not ready to go in the other direction and call them friends with benefits. He doesn't do long-term romantic relationships; that had bit him in the ass more times than he can count.

(Kai, however, does do the whole long-term courting romantic relationship thing. Jinora Gyatso's a schoolteacher in a small town and the oldest daughter of the governor, who's had it in for the two of them since before the dawn of time. They meet her at Pabu's Saloon, where some stiffs are harassing her and they don't seem to understand the word no. After verbally thrashing them, Skoochy grins at her charmingly and Kai gives her tips on what to do next time. The next thing Skoochy knows the two of them are sleeping together. Sometimes his partner is far smoother than he lets on.)

He doesn't know why they get along so well, really. They're complete opposites—he's charming, Kai's quiet. He's a leader, Kai's a follower. He's handsome, and Kai…well, fine, he ain't so bad. But in another world, in another life, they might not even be friends. Maybe in another world they'd be enemies. Who knows. He doesn't like dealing with that existential shit.

They're the best outlaws in the country, according to the newspapers. They've taken bullets for each other. They're grown men with unresolved daddy issues that still argue whether or not the tooth fairy exists. They're always together—usually griping—no more than point blank range apart.

And, well, Skoochy wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
